


Reward and Punishment

by Dusty



Category: Casino Royale (2006), James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: F/M, Missing Scene, Sexy Times, Stand Alone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-07
Updated: 2013-06-07
Packaged: 2017-12-14 05:47:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/833450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dusty/pseuds/Dusty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A scene immediately preceding James' chipping which may go some way to explain why she is smug and glowing, while he is surly and sulking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reward and Punishment

**Author's Note:**

> As inspired by fannish proclamation that M's outfit in this scene needed a fic.

He had been summoned. The sun was beating down as he dashed into the cool shade of the hotel reception. Inside, he noticed one of M’s security guards a little way along a dark corridor, outside a function room. He approached cautiously.

With a courteous nod, the man stepped aside as James let himself into the room without warning.

She turned. Her eyes narrowed and her lips thinned as he strutted in brazenly, casually throwing the door closed.

“James,” she said bitterly. “Thank you for knocking.”

“Public function room,” he said with a shrug, perching provocatively on the arm of a sofa. "Besides. You're standing here alone. What didn't you want me to walk in on?"

She smouldered at him; eyes flashing. He watched her cheeks develop a pinkish hue just apparent underneath her gentle tan. Her golden hair shone in a beam of sunlight. She was a vision of warmth, her outfit of coffee and cream flattering her skin tone perfectly. Her skirt and top hugged her curves so much it almost made him jealous. And if that wasn’t enough, there were her legs. No tights nor stockings, just beautifully formed, glowing, naked legs. Her shoes were neither sexy nor sensible; just classy, and of course, coordinated exactly.

He smirked. She swaggered towards him dangerously, raising an eyebrow at his attitude.

She smiled to herself as she sensed him questioning her trajectory. She glided past him silently and with a flick of her hand, locked the door.

“I see,” he said. “So what is this time? Punishment or reward?”

“Both,” she answered. “Your punishment, my reward. Not necessarily in that order.”

He tingled. She moved closer to him until he could feel her body heat and smell the mint on her breath. His arms immediately wrapped around her waist as he pulled her flush against him. She gasped, but melted into him all the same.

He held her tight as he kissed her thoroughly, one hand cradling her neck as his tongue delved into her mouth and he reminded her what she’d been missing. Her heart beat fast, knowing it was only seconds before she'd have to glance about the room, checking for eavesdroppers or spies, but enjoying the fierceness and promise of his kiss.

They broke apart, and that’s when she felt his hand on her thigh. She shivered. Her naked thigh and James’ large, warm hand.

“We don’t have long,” she informed him sternly, yet with an electric smile. She gently covered his hand with hers and slowly guided it further up her leg. James eyes glazed over as he accepted the invitation, instantly moving to her sex. His eyes widened in surprise. No material.

“Ah,” he purred. “Now I know why I’m rewarding you.”

“Yes,” she said simply, her breath hitching as his fingers began to play and explore. She rolled her hips and sighed quietly while he gently teased the silky folds.

With his other hand on the small of her back, he held her place, forcing the friction. Her head lolled onto his chest as she rocked against him. He kissed her forehead. He stayed in place on the arm of the sofa, solid as a rock, feet firmly on the ground.

“Good girl,” he murmured, slipping a finger into her slick heat. She gasped. His eyes darted around the room. They were alone. Only the sound of erratic breathing and the distant waves breaking on the shore could be heard. They were alone. He loved it when they were alone.

Another finger. She whimpered against his chest. He felt himself harden at the possibility she’d been thinking about this, planning this, all the way here. She wanted him. And how she adored the heat of the sun. She was a different creature away from the pale coolness of London. Hotter. Brighter. More relaxed.

She tightened around him as he curled his fingers, his thumb teasing her clit. He lowered his head and kissed her neck, hard, holding her firmly as her movements quickened. She really must have been working herself up for this, he pondered. She was almost there already.

She clutched onto him and muffled a succession of shouts into his shirt as she tensed and writhed, a powerful climax crashing through her. He groaned loudly. His hand was very wet. She rode it out until the absolute last. And then she slumped against him.

He held her up; one arm around her waist and the other still playing under her skirt; breathing in the scent of her hair and ignoring the throb in his own groin. She looked at him dopily. He grinned back at her, then brought his artful hand to his mouth, making a scene of attentively licking the copious, sweet cream from his fingers. He licked his lips.

“Cheeky,” she breathed as he finished. She straightened up and stood back, spying his tenting trousers, and shook her head. “Up,” she commanded.

He stood. “Ma’am,” he said, officially.

“Turn around and bend over.”

“Ma’am,” he said again, this time with a reluctant sigh of resignation. He obediently placed both hands palm down on the sofa arm, providing more of a lean than a bend. It was sufficient. A hard smack landed on his presented bottom, the sting tingling even through his cream jeans.

She smirked at the involuntary noise he made, pressing her lips together in an effort not to laugh at him. She regarded him fondly as he stayed in position nonetheless. She regained her composure; her voice utterly professional. “Now stand up and make that thing go back down. You’re needed outside.”

He straightened and turned around with a faint frown. “Why do I get the feeling that this wasn’t the punishment?” he asked, trepidation in his voice.

She smiled sweetly. “Because it wasn’t,” she replied. “With me, OO7.”

She motioned towards the door impatiently, still determined to remain professional as she watched him quite literally shake out the tension in his body in an attempt to rid himself of any localised stiffness. He did not look impressed.

“Good boy,” she said, still fighting a giggle.

He frowned and followed her out of the room into the sunshine outside.


End file.
